"No," she said.
"I don't see the distinction."
"But it's there," she said, and once more he felt the iron under her grace.
"This isn't modern, Helen."
"No, I'm simple."
"And I don't like it." He was grave; the muscles in his cheek were twitching and the brown flecks in his eyes moved quickly. "Marry me at once."
"You said I was too young!"
"I say it still." He paced the room. "It's true, but neither your youth nor anything else shall take you from me, and, oh, my little heart, be good to me."
"I can't be good enough and I'll marry you when you want me."
"This week?"